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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525921">Everything revolves around you, and I really don't care</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixey/pseuds/Nixey'>Nixey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1940s, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But also not, Grey Harry, Hogwarts, Horcruxes, M/M, Master of Death (Harry Potter), Possessive Behavior, Possessive Tom Riddle, Protectiveness, Slow Build, Slytherin Harry Potter, Time Travel, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter), harry just wants to avoid riddle, riddle wants harry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:49:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22525921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixey/pseuds/Nixey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>End of fourth year. During the resurrection ritual, Harry is sent into the past. Now Harry's trapped in 1941, de-aged, and forced to share a room with a 14 year old Tom Riddle in Wool's orphanage. He can't wait to see what happens when he goes to school with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Tom Riddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>590</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Trip to the Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The huge cauldron emitted puffs of smoke that pooled over the edge. The once bubbling cauldron was now empty except for the tall, inhumane figure standing inside. Harry couldn’t stop staring at the pasty white skin, the bald head… the red slitted eyes. Harry shuddered and desperately lashed out against the tombstone he was tied to. This… thing looked like a monster, it was a monster! There was no doubt in his mind that this was Voldemort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry kept struggling against the stone, praying that it would budge. However, after pushing and pushing, the scythe relentlessly stayed still. He watched with dread as Voldemort called his followers. The longer he stayed here, the more his chances of survival decreased. He couldn’t help but glance to the left where Cedric lay. He was so still. His glassy eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing, his face stuck in a confused and shocked expression. Harry quickly turned his head away. He couldn’t look anymore at  who he once thought of as a comrade and friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry quickly focused back on the problem at hand when he heard his name and mentally reprimanded himself for zoning out. Voldemort was walking towards him, a malicious smile etched on his snake-like face. With each step Voldemort took, pressure started to build up inside his scar. The pressure soon turned to a pounding throb when Voldemort stood in front of him. Harry panted hard as he tried to stay standing. Harry watched in horror and panic as Voldemort lifted his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can touch you now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then unimaginable pain exploded in Harry’s scar, spreading to every inch of Harry’s body. He screamed in agony as he writhed in the ropes tying him to the headstone. It felt like his skin was peeling off and his bones shattering into tiny pieces. Harry couldn’t form any coherent thoughts besides wanting it to end. When unconsciousness came, he gratefully accepted it.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Harry opened his eyes, it was to a dull, grey sky filled with… was that smoke? Harry blinked in confusion. He sat up slowly, wincing from the pain all over. His foggy brain began to clear and memories started to drift back to him. He was in the maze, Cedric and himself had touched the cup, then Cedric di-... then Voldemort came back. He remembered pain but that was it. He must’ve passed out but that didn’t explain where he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked around. He was lying by the entrance to an alleyway in some big town or city. There were a few people walking around but nobody seemed to have noticed him. Judging by the sky, it must be early morning, maybe 7am? Harry carefully stood up, bracing himself against a wall of a building to help. To his delight, the pain he had previously felt seemed to be dying down, now it was only a dull ache. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped out of the alley and frowned. Something was off. He looked down at himself and gasped. He held his hands out. They were so small! He flexed his fingers and observed the foreign hands. His eyes quickly scanned the rest of his body and felt panicked when he noticed that the rest of his body was younger. His breathing quickened the longer he stared at his de-aged form. He must be nine or ten years old. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A cough startled him out of his observation and he quickly looked towards the sound. A tall figure stood by the entrance of the alley, blocking out most of the light and turning the figure into a shadow. Harry unconsciously took a step back when the man approached him before berating himself. He was not some child! He was fourteen - nearly fifteen - year old wizard! The man crouched down to his level, letting more light into the backstreet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, child? Where are your parents?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man’s voice was gentle but firm. Harry didn’t know what to say since he himself didn’t know how he got here. One minute he was being tortured by Voldemort and the next he was waking up in an alley confused, not that he could tell this man that. He was pretty sure this man was a muggle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well?” the adult asked, a bit more demanding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm… I don’t know how I got here” Harry replied, “and my parents are dead. I live with my aunt and uncle.” he said after a stern look from the man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know why he was telling this muggle that information but he wasn’t in the right mindset to worry about that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man seemed to frown as he looked at him. Harry belatedly realised he was looking at the small tremors in Harry’s arms that he just realised he had. He wrapped his arms around himself to try and stop it but no matter what he did, they just didn’t seem to leave. It must be the aftershock of whatever happened back in the graveyard. Harry remembered the lesson when Professor Moody talked about the Unforgivables and he was pretty sure it was mentioned that the victims had to be given some type of potion to stop the post-shocks of the cruciatus curse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was then drawn back to the present by the man moving towards him. His face seemed to have smoothed out a more gentle yet sorrowful expression, leaving Harry extremely confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, young man, everything’s gonna be alright.” said the man as he reached forward and gently grabbed his arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was still confused as the man began to pull him up and tugged him towards the main street. Once they had stepped out into the light, Harry looked towards the adult grabbing his arm. The grip was surprisingly soft for the appearance of the man. He was dressed in some weird uniform with a big ‘W’ stamped on it. He had a big helmet with the same letter on it and Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man quickened his strides when he was met with little resistance from Harry - who was really too shocked and confused to react - and began to head down the street. As they were walking, Harry couldn’t help but feel like he had stumbled onto a movie set. Everything was basically in ruins! Rubble littered the streets and buildings were destroyed. No structure was left untouched; there were either chunks missing from walls, boarded up doors or shattered windows. It was truly terrifying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What had happened?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry furrowed his brow in concentration while the man dragged him down the street. He needed to get back to Hogwarts. He needed to warn Dumbledore about Voldemort. What if this was his doing? Harry’s attention was then drawn to the man holding his hand as he began to ask where he lived and who his parents were. Harry could only stare at him. He didn’t know why this stranger wanted to know those personal details - it wasn’t really since most of the wizarding world knew about it - and instead decided to ask his own questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man gave him an odd look, like he couldn’t believe how he didn’t know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Child, you do realise our country is at war right now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have been at war for nearly two years now. Surely you know of it, even for one as young as you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked around in horror at the devastating scene.  Was there really a war going on? He had never heard of any war whenever he went back to Privet Drive, though his Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t have told him if there was. But Hermione would’ve known, right? She is a muggleborn and she would’ve been concerned for her family if there was a war… but maybe Hermione never told us because she didn’t want us to worry? Ron wouldn’t have understood because he was oblivious to most muggle things and maybe Hermione already assumed Harry knew. He decided to push this topic to the side and focus on the present.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are we going, Sir?” Harry asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, you mentioned you lost your aunt and uncle and I’m guessing you have no other relatives,” he looked at Harry for confirmation and continued when he nodded, “so, I have to take you to a place where you can stay.” he explained while pointing to a dull building up ahead. “Wool’s Orphanage. It’s the closest one around here and is probably happy to take you in. Blimey, with the way this war is going, Germany is probably gonna cause all the children to become orphans.” The last sentence was whispered to himself but Harry still heard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s Germany got to do with this war?” Harry asked, he hoped to get some answers out of this man while he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can you not know about any of this?!” the man exclaimed, “With the way Hitler is bombing and attacking everyone, surely you would’ve known about this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry blinked. Hitler? As in, Adolf Hitler? He remembered learning about him in the Surrey Primary school. But, didn’t that happen in World War Two? Like, all the way back in 1938? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the date today?” Harry feverishly asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you’re okay, son? Did you hit your head during one of the raids?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just answer my question! Please?” Harry almost begged. His mind was thinking of ludicrous things, things that couldn’t possibly be true, things he didn’t want to be true, things that fit perfectly and made sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Umm, it's the 28th of June, 1941?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no no no no….” Harry murmured. This couldn’t be happening! How… how did he travel through time? No wonder Hermione never talked about a war, it’s because she didn’t even exist yet (and wasn’t that a weird thought)! Okay… calm down Harry. You need to think logically. This muggle most likely thinks we’re amnesiac or something, let’s not give him any more reason to think so. Just get through wherever he’s taking us and then we can go back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore is probably around somewhere since he is really old in the future and he’ll know what to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair approached a tall, dreary building with firm iron gates. A sign on top read ‘Wool’s Orphanage’. Children could be seen running around outside; playing with their meagre toys. The man - he still didn’t know his name - led him to the front doors where he knocked loudly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a moment, the door was opened by a woman dressed in an old fashioned dress that went down to her ankles. The dress had long sleeves with a plain flower embroidered on the lower part of the dress. Buttons lined the front of her chest and a white cloth seemed to rest on her shoulders, almost like a baby’s bib. Her blond hair was tied up by braids that were then wrapped around in a bun. This woman looked like she had just emerged from one of those old World War 2 photographs that were portrayed in his primary school. It just seemed to ram home the fact that he wasn’t in his own time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Philip! What a lovely surprise!” The women said while straightening her posture. She smiled brightly at the man whose hand had just rested on Harry’s shoulder. Her eyes held a deep emotion that looked similar to the ones Mrs Weasley directed at her husband.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martha, good afternoon. I’m afraid I’ve come here as part of my Warden duties. This young fellow,” he patted Harry for emphasis, “was found out on the streets. He’s unfortunately lost his parents and seems to be quite shocked if the small tremors he had when I first found him were anything to go by.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh you poor thing,” Martha bent down to stroke his cheek carefully, “it breaks my heart to see all these innocent children suffer because of a war that has nothing to do with them. Come inside, we’ll need to get Mrs Cole.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martha held the door open for the both of them to walk through before guiding them down a hallway. Harry was then gently pushed through a door into what must be an office. There was a desk in the middle with stacks of paper on either end and a sharp lady seated behind.  She looked up from whatever she was writing when they entered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Martha, whatever is the matter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mrs Cole, this young boy was found on the streets, he’s lost his parents and has to join us at the orphanage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another one?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sadly. The longer the Germans attack us, the more orphans we’re gonna get.” Martha responded, her eyes getting a bit teary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmph, we’re having to rationalize our food supply and clothing, and this is the 3rd child in two weeks! We’re running out of rooms in this building and I’m afraid, this child is going to have to stay in room 213.” Mrs Cole announced gravely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But,” Martha gasped, “There will be incidents between…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What choice do we have? The child needs a room to stay in and there is space in that room. He will just have to get used to it.” The old lady spoke sharply and Martha bowed her head in defeat. For some reason, Harry was pretty sure they weren’t referring to him.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Harry gulped when Mrs Cole looked at him, “what is your full name and date of birth?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, my name is Harry James Potter and I’m born on...” he paused and tried to quickly do the math. If he looked like a 10 year old (he still couldn’t believe that and resolved to figure it out later) and it was 1941, then he would’ve been born in...“July 31st 1931.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mrs Cole nodded stiffly as she wrote it down. She then looked up at Martha and told her to get him ready. With a quick nod, Martha began to usher him out of the room, leaving Mrs Cole and that man - Philip - alone to discuss the paperwork. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was then led to what he would presume was the laundry room. There, he was fitted for some clothes before he was then taken on a tour of the building. The orphanage was surprisingly clean but that was the only compliment Harry could give it. The rooms were grim and sombre and the children all wore mismatched clothing that had far too many sewing patches in. It didn’t look like they ate much either and some children were sporting bruises and red marks along their hands and Harry wasn’t too sure if he wanted to find out what or who the source was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Harry was then led down a corridor to a room with the number 213 inscribed on it. The inside was pretty small; there was only one bed, a wardrobe and desk. It had a window facing the front courtyard where children could be seen playing down below. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A new bed will be brought in and you’ll be sharing this room with another orphan. He’s not here at the moment but will be back sometime tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded at the matron. He liked her, she seemed quite kind and compassionate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For now, let’s head back down to the Dining Hall for lunch. You must be starving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They left the room after dumping Harry’s new clothes in the now-his side of the wardrobe. It was weird how when they went to move the other orphan’s stuff into the right side of the cupboard, it was surprisingly empty. Harry guessed orphans didn’t really have much personal possessions but still, it was completely empty!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they approached the Dining Hall, Martha turned to him, “I’m going to have to go now, I eat with all the other staff members and I’m sure you’d like to get to know the other children. Just queue up over there to receive your meal and go sit by one the tables. Got it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” Harry said as Martha rubbed his hair before walking towards where the staff eat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry walked over to where the children were queuing up and waited to receive his lunch. It seemed to be some type of broth. There were some potatoes, cabbage and other small vegetables but the meal looked very watery and diluted. He chose to sit on one of the tables in the far corner - he wasn’t up for socialising with children yet - and began to eat. The food was okay but he knew it wouldn’t make him full. Oh well, at least he had experience with that. He finished off his food quickly and headed back to his new room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he got there, he noticed another bed had been added along the right wall and went to go lay on it. Now that he was finally alone, Harry allowed himself to scrutinize the events that had transpired today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had somehow been transported through time. Time! Never in his life would he’d have thought this would happen. Hermione had said that time turners could only go back a maximum of five hours before it became unstable and Harry was pretty sure he had travelled over fifty years into the past. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But what did that mean? Was he in danger? Hermione always said bad things happened to people meddling with time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, Hermione would know what to do…” he mumbled to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A soft knock at the door made him sit up. Martha peeked her head around and smiled at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, do you mind if I come in?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She walked in and sat down next to him. Harry couldn’t help but notice her aversion to the other bed and briefly wondered why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“During lunch, the rest of the caretakers were told of your arrival so you may see other staff members introduce themselves to you. Mary is one of my closer friends at Wool’s and works down in the nursery. She knows how to make books and she’d sell them to bookstores to earn some extra money for the orphanage. She’s made it a tradition to make a book for every orphan and when she heard of you, she’d left quickly to her room.” Martha said, “She’d already had a pre-made book and just had to engrave your name into it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stared at the leather book in Martha’s offered hand. He accepted the dark brown journal and traced his fingers on his golden name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry James Potter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The book looked familiar but he didn’t know from where. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A lot of the other orphans use their books as journals or scrapbooks. I think it’s a good idea to write down our thoughts, less we lose them. Whenever I journal, I find my thoughts more clear and focused after.” Martha said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry glanced up at the woman, intrigued by her suggestion. With all this time travelling nonsense, he definitely felt overwhelmed. If he wrote it down, he might be able to figure out how he got here and, more importantly, how to get back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But what if somebody read it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was stuck in a muggle orphanage and he didn’t know how he’d explain to them why he was writing about time travelling... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A thought struck him. He could just say he wanted to become an author. No one could be suspicious of that: a young orphan wanting to connect with his parents through the stories they’d supposedly told him as a child. They’d probably feel sympathy for him and won’t push the subject. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martha’s voice brought him out of his contemplation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, seems like you’re interested in it, I’ll leave you to do whatever you’re planning.” Martha winked before standing up and walking towards the exit, “Pencils are in the drawer of the desk.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The soft click of the door closing signalled Harry was all alone. He turned towards the worn-out wooden desk that stood between the two beds. It looked old. Definitely second-hand and sported a few dents here and there. However, it seemed to be the most maintained out of all the other desks Harry had glimpsed at in the other childrens’ rooms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat down in the chair and opened the drawer. He was confused when he saw the contents. 3 pencils; 2 that were too short to use, and the remnants of a rubber. There was barely anything in it! His ‘roommate’ had nothing in his wardrobe and hardly nothing in his desk. Harry was getting more and more confused. Did orphans really own so little? He’d known orphanages didn’t get much money but he’d thought they’d have more than this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shook his head. It wasn’t like he could do anything. He had to focus on his situation and find a way back to his time. He opened his new notebook, grabbed the one usable pencil, and got to work. He dedicated a few pages on the events before he got sent back, writing in detail about the portkey, the graveyard, and Voldemort’s speech. Next, he wrote everything he knew about time-travel, from time-turners to the multiple lectures Hermione had said. He had a lot to write.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow... how was it?</p><p>This is my first post and I'm really excited to see what you all think of it!</p><p>It's not beta'd so comment what you think and if there are any mistakes, tell me but please no hate. That's just unproductive and mean.</p><p>Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An Encounter with a Riddle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry didn’t know how long he sat there, fully absorbed in the book. Only when a distant bell chime for dinner did he look up. Outside was dark, surprising Harry. It felt like an hour had passed but judging how he’d started writing just after lunch, it had to be at least 4 hours. Blimey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shoved the book under his pillow and was just about to get up when the door opened. A boy stood in the doorway. He was tall, with black hair and pale skin. He looked around 14 and Harry couldn’t help but shiver when he saw the eyes, the dark eyes that glared at him. Harry instantly recognised him and he would deny it till his dying breath that he’d yelped in fright, stumbling out of the chair and onto the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing in here.” he demanded more than questioned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry felt a faint shiver trickle down his body as he looked up at the face he was so sure he’d never see again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom Riddle. You’re Tom Riddle…” Harry spoke softly, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, which was true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tom’s eyes seemed to darken and his once blank face now held anger at his question being dismissed. He stalked towards Harry as Harry began to compose himself from the second life-altering moment to happen (travelling through time will always be number one). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry quickly scrambled onto his bed as he frantically yelled, “This is my room! We’re sharing it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle paused from his advancements but his expression didn’t change.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> room. I do not share.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, tough luck because the matron put me here and everywhere else is full.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mrs Cole’s words made a lot more sense now that he knew who is roommate was. A frustrated noise left Riddle as he looked away in anger, probably counting to ten or something. His eyes snapped back to him, however, with an unidentifiable glint in them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How old are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The malice that coated his voice before was gone, now replaced with a cool, almost interested tone. Harry was thrown by the sudden mood swing and didn’t believe the odd facade at all. Nevertheless, he answered the question, if a bit warily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ten, but I’m almost eleven!” Harry raised his voice at the end to sound more childish. And he had to applaud himself on his acting skills. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still couldn’t believe he was a child. He’d theorised that when he’d transported through time, his body must’ve regressed back to when he was younger to compensate for the huge jump into the past. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>See Hermione? I know a lot more than you think!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle was still staring at him weirdly. Harry got the feeling that he was under a microscope and couldn’t help but shiver. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” he said impatiently. The silence was grating on his nerves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Riddle said, “I guess you can stay here tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, he turned around and shoved his trunk under his bed.  Harry eyed it curiously while his back was turned and couldn’t help but wonder what the baby darklord had in it. Maybe world domination plans, or the darkest curses to ever exist. He shook his head, berating himself. Riddle was only a child. He wasn’t Voldemort yet. But Harry refused to befriend his soon-to-be parents’ murderer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mood dropped further at the reminder of his parents. He tried to squish the bubbling anger that accompanied but failed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if that’s all you’re gonna say, I’ll be going to dinner.” Harry snapped, his anger leaking into his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t look at Riddle, storming towards the door and slamming it closed. That was a little bit satisfying but Harry still wasn’t in the mood to deal with the other children. He walked to the dining room and grabbed a serving. It was two slices of spam, boiled potatoes and cauliflower. Harry had to admit, it wasn’t the best dish he’s had but it was definitely better than the Dursleys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The meal was uneventful. Some kids came up to him but they left him alone when he wouldn’t respond to them. He’d seen Riddle sitting alone at one of the tables but paid him no mind. After finishing, he cleared up and headed back to his room. Riddle was still downstairs so he was alone. He contemplated snooping through Riddle’s stuff but refrained. He wouldn’t stoop so low yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry decided to call it a night. His whole world had just flipped upside down today and it all weighed down on him now. He was surprised he could still stand. He quickly changed into his pajamas and slipped under his covers. The bed was speaky and springy but he was too tired to care and soon fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t hear Riddle enter the room later on or see Riddle stare at him with scrutiny. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry woke to the yells of the matron. He heard the loud clumps of her feet walking up and down the corridor, yelling and banging on all the doors, telling them to get up and start on their chores. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chores…?” he mumbled to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked around the room and saw Riddle sitting on his bed, book in hand but forgotten as he stared at the younger boy. Harry flushed in embarrassment. He was in 1941, right. Riddle continued to stare at him with such intensity that Harry couldn’t help but squirm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I have something on my face, just tell me.” he bit out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle just blinked before turning back to his book. Harry sighed quietly and sat up. The yells of the matron returned  and Harry turned to look at Riddle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you doing chores?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle looked up at him, “No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry frowned. “But isn’t she screaming for all of us to do chores?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s yelling for the other orphans to do them. Not me. Didn’t you notice she didn’t bang on the door when she walked past? I’m excluded from it. You, however, are not.” An evil smirk spread across his face.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Did Riddle really threaten the matrons to exclude him from chores? Why else would Riddle be let off chores? Is this why the matrons spoke fearfully of him. He remembered Martha’s scared and sad eyes she’d sent him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you threaten the matrons?!” Harry couldn’t help the outburst. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt the anger from yesterday rise up at the thought that Riddle would take advantage of the poor muggles. Voldemort’s snake face flashed in his mind and Harry couldn’t help but yell, “You horrible bastard! Go to hell!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Harry stormed out. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was assigned to sweep the dining room floor with some other orphans. There were a few who looked around his supposed age and some that were older, maybe even Riddle’s age. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that he’d calmed down, Harry grimaced at what he’d said earlier. He’d acted extremely childish and accused Riddle of something he wasn’t even sure he did. It must have something to do with his new ‘age’. Now Riddle was sure to hate him. If he didn’t already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi! Kid, yer new here, ‘ight?” one of the orphans said, his cockney accent strong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you rooming with the freak? I’m surprised he’s not done something to you. No one’s ever lasted a night with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” A girl older than him spat the last word with disgust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah kid, yer better watch yerself. He’s an outcast, a freak! No one ever wanted ‘im, not even his mother! Devil’s spawn, he is.” The boy spoke with laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had short blond hair and Harry was immediately reminded of Dudley. He recoiled at the thought. The other orphans were agreeing with him  and pitched in their own experiences. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They say the matrons got him exorcised by the church but it failed.” A girl whispered to her friend,  “They should’ve tried harder though, one less </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak </span>
  </em>
  <span>to taint the earth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Freak. That word again. Harry tried hard to fight back bile as that word swam in his mind. He heard Dudley’s voice - </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Vernon’s - </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak </span>
  </em>
  <span>- Aunt Petunia’s - </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak - </span>
  </em>
  <span>the kids at school - </span>
  <em>
    <span>FREAK </span>
  </em>
  <span>- the neighbour’s whispering - </span>
  <em>
    <span>FREAK</span>
  </em>
  <span>!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Harry yelled and he wasn’t sure who he was talking to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone was silent, all the orphans were looking at him in shock. Hard, harsh, pants left his body as he tried to regain control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>defending </span>
  </em>
  <span>the freak - AAHHH!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A loud crack resonated throughout the room as the girl that was speaking collapsed on the floor in agony, her left leg twisted oddly. Everyone jumped and started to panic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What just happened-!?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s one of them-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stared at the crying girl in shock and horror. Did he just do that? Never before had he done that and he wasn’t sure what came over him. What should he do now? He’s bound to get in big trouble. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did the only thing he was good at, he ran. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart was pounding as he weaved through the corridors and out into the courtyard. It was bright and Harry had to wait for his eyes to adjust for a few seconds. A lot of the children must’ve finished their chores because they were running around and playing in front of the locked iron gates. Seeing the crowded space, Harry turned to the small woods  around the back. It looked secluded enough and ran towards it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was used to running from ‘Harry Hunting’ and wasn’t puffed out once he was far enough in that the sound of laughter could barely be heard. He slid down the bark of one of the trees and brought his knees up to his chest. Lowering his head on it, he allowed himself to properly cry over what he’d just done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before he tired himself out again - really, he hated having a young body - and slowly slipped off into a fitful sleep.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tom's at the scene! Poor Harry's temper. He hasn't seen any memories from Dumbledore so it must've been a shock to him. Now he gone and lost his temper! What's gonna happen to him now? Will he be punished? </p><p>I hope everything's in character. If it's not, I don't mind if you tell me which bit is but please no hate.</p><p>See ya, lovelies!</p><p>Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tom's First Encounter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tom Riddle doesn’t sulk. It’s unbecoming of someone like him and he refused to do so in front of his classmates. So what if he was going back to that filthy muggle orphanage while his followers went to their posh mansions, filled with food, jewellery and magic. They were all stupid, arrogant and spoiled children. They did not possess the prowess he had, no matter how much they wished they could. He had something they all longed for, power. Thus, he did not sulk. To sulk will show weakness and he couldn’t give them that leverage. He departed the train and walk with grace through the wall separating Platform 9 ¾ with King’s Cross. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He arrived back at the orphanage just in time for dinner. He dreaded this place. One day, this place will burn down along with everything and everyone in it. He smirked. Tom walked to his room and pushed the door open. He froze. There was a child, around ten, sitting in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> chair. He watched as the boy flailed and fell to the ground in surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did these muggles really think he would share his room with some dirty muggle child?! The only place where he could have privacy in this god forsaken building. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stalked forward, demanding who the child was and couldn’t help the glee at seeing his terrified face. He felt angry when his thoughts were confirmed and looked away, lest he act rashly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he felt it. It was subtle but Tom prided himself on being magic sensitive. He snapped back to the boy. The child had a bright aura surrounding him. It pulsed defensively and was poised to attack at any second and Tom couldn’t help but feel fascinated. This kid was magical, and not just any ordinary wizard either. His magic was strong. It was similar to Tom’s magic but obviously less dark and less strong but more powerful than most of the students at Hogwarts. This was definitely a puzzle he would enjoy solving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How old are you?” he asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ten. But I’m almost eleven!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The childish voice answered but Tom narrowed his eyes. The voice seemed off, almost like an act. It would’ve fooled everyone else but he was a master manipulator. That just made the whole situation more intriguing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was decided. He would find out all he needed to know of the boy, and hopefully would have gained a new follower by the end. He must’ve been staring too long at the child because the next thing he knew, the boy got defensive and ran off. He sighed. This was gonna be a pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tom Riddle was furious. How dare that child yell at him! He’d been reading peacefully before that brat woke up. He’d been drawn in by the green eyes that looked much older than that of a child. It was another thing to add to the list of oddities. The boy only arrived yesterday, having been found near a bombing site. Tom had a nice chat with Mrs Cole last night; she’d been eager to answer all of his questions, even if she wouldn’t remember it afterwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ah, yes. Harry James Potter, born on July 31st 1931. He was found near a bombing site not far from here. Warden Philip Morris found him shaking and confused. Said he didn’t have parents so Philip brought him here.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Potter’s voice broke the silence, pulling Tom from the memory and reminding him that he was getting too invested in this child. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he was magical but Tom was pretty sure he was. He just had to prove it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the child asked him about chores, Tom couldn’t help the smirk on his face. That day had been progressive in subjecting the muggles. However, it was immediately wiped off when Potter yelled at him. How dare that wretch talk back to him! No one yells at him and gets away with it. He ought to teach him a lesson or two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His fury was barely controlled when he left his room in search of brat. He paid no mind to the orphans shirking away from him, fear evident in their eyes. He was pretty sure one girl started crying. He smirked in triumph at having squashed these lesser insects down where they belong and right now, he was on the hunt to squish another one. Only problem was, he didn’t know where that boy ran off to. He cursed under his breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Tom found Potter in the dining room, he faltered in his step at the taste of magic in the air. It felt so strong, so powerful that Tom almost forgot his anger. He stood in the shadows of the room and watched the orphans insult him. He felt his magic build up, wanting to hurt them but just before he did, the feeling died down. Like something had soothed it. He ignored the weird sensation and focused on the hunched boy in front of him. Tom couldn’t help but watch his trembling in fascination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amy had just started whispering again when a loud SNAP echoed around the room followed by piercing screams. Tom was ecstatic. This was proof! Proof that the boy was magical. Just like him! He forced a cackle back down. He could shape this child’s mind to whatever he wants, he’d turn him into a loyal follower for his cause.Yes, this changes a lot of his upcoming plans but he will adapt. After all, he’s got a young wizard to influence. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thought I'd change it up a bit and do Tommy boi's POV. </p><p>How was it? I hope he wasn't out of character. If it was I don't mind if you tell me, just no hate. </p><p>It's a very short chapter, I know. But I wanted to get it out there. Next update, the story will continue its plot and hopefully be longer. </p><p>Have a good day!</p><p>Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Cat out of the bag</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey~~ Another chapter! Yay~!</p><p>Just want to let you know that updates will be irregular. *sorry*</p><p>I do have school that I really should prioritise but I will write when I can. I'll try to post as frequently as possible. </p><p>Enjoy this chapter!</p><p>Xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Harry woke up, he had to immediately shut his eyes before he went blind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ughh…” he moaned whilst rubbing his eyelids. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Huh. his glasses were gone. With much force, he tentatively opened his eyes again, slowly adjusting to the bright room he was in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Wasn’t he outside last time? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was lying on a bed with thin white sheets. Next to him were two other beds but they were both empty. He saw his glasses on the bedside table and quickly slipped them on. Instantly, the world came into focus and Harry was able to discern the room was the infirmary. There was a cabinet across from him filled with first-aid kits and a door to his left which must be the exit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, the door opened and Riddle gracefully walked in. Harry tensed hard and quickly scanned for any escape route. He found none. Riddle stood in front of him now, a murderous look on his face and Harry couldn’t help but cower back. They stared at each other in silence, before Riddle sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What were you doing outside?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The outburst surprised him and he all he could do was utter, “Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You just ran off outside and didn’t come back,” Riddle glared at him, “The whole orphanage was looking for you and you were just sleeping under a tree?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, Riddle thought, that might’ve been an exaggeration. Only a few people were forced to look for the idiot boy, him included. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Everything’s just been so confusing and I’d just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry quickly shut his mouth. He’s been so cautious ever since he’d been here but his sleep-addled brain had almost slipped his secrets. And to Riddle no less!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why am I here?” Harry asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle narrowed his eyes at the obvious topic change but kept silent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I found you outside and brought you back here.” Harry flushed in embarrassment. He may look ten years old but he’s still fourteen and he buried his head in his hands at the thought of Riddle carrying him. “The matrons wanted to monitor you in case you have a cold so they kept you in the infirmary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” Riddle smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t help but feel thrown off whenever he saw him. He didn’t act like Voldemort. Granted, he wasn’t a darklord, but Harry assumed he’d been just as evil when he was young.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle then stood up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, follow me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was pretty sure that was a demand. Nonetheless, he got up and walked behind Riddle as they left the room. They headed back to their room in silence and Harry couldn’t help but pick up something off about Riddle. The way his shoulders seemed tenser then normal, the rigid stepping of his walk and the clenching and unclenching of his fists. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Needless to say, Harry was really worried, especially for himself. Riddle opened the door and after the two of them were inside, Harry felt magic tingle around the knob and was pretty sure that stopped it from opening.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gulped. Something was about to happen and with his famous Potter luck, it probably wasn’t good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry had just turned around when he was suddenly pushed back, landing on his bed. He yelped when Riddle loomed over him, a very familiar brown book in his hand. Harry had faced a basilisk, hundreds of dementors, a dragon and even Voldemort but at this moment, he’d never felt so scared in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle’s eyes pierced his. Harry could feel the hunger in them and whimpered. No. No. No. This can’t be happening! He knew writing in that blasted book had been a bad idea but he’d expected muggles to question him, not bloody Tom Riddle! That’s it. Fate, just kill him now while he’s still got mercy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What an interesting book you’ve got here.” The smugness was practically oozing out of him. “I wonder if any of it is true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I don’t know what you mean, it’s just a story idea I got.” He was a bad liar and nobody would deny it but it still didn’t stop him from trying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle just smirked. “Oh what a shame. I really would’ve liked to meet a time-traveler. This changes everything.” </span>
  <span>The last bit was murmured to himself but Harry still heard from their close proximity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry closed his eyes. There was no escape. Riddle was literally pinning him down and even if he did get free, there was still that locked door in his way. He cursed under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With every second Riddle’s theories seemed to solidify in his mind because he became more excited and ecstatic. He looked like he was receiving his first ever Christmas present.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How old are you? From your writing you definitely are older than what you are now. Tell me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry tried to keep silent. Really, all this information was disastrous in the hands of a young Voldemort but the longer Harry stayed quiet, the more pressure Riddle would put on his chest until Harry could barely breathe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... fo-fourteen-n…” He gasped for air as the pressure lifted. However it was back again with another question, or demand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Is everything in this book true?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...yes…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And back and forth it went. Riddle would ask Harry to clarify what was written in the book. Harry would try not to but after he got used to the pain in his chest, Riddle decided to use a bit of compulsion. It confused Harry since he was pretty much immune to the imperius curse, unless it had something to do with his connection with Voldemort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears had started to fall down Harry’s face when Riddle forced him to retell Cedric’s death, which he’d been pointedly ignoring up till that point. The older boy grilled Harry on the Triwizard Tournament, the resurrection (He’d looked confused and Harry was sure he’d be forced to clarify that soon), and his transportation. Harry soon was exhausted and numb. Riddle, however, wasn’t finished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle was just about to ask another question when a sudden loud blaring pierced the building. Harry instinctively covered his ears as his eyes darted around the room. Riddle glared at the door and if looks could kill, he was sure everything and everyone would be six feet under.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on? What’s happening?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rapid stomping of the children’s feet added to his tension.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Air raid.” was the quick reply from Riddle who looked none too pleased that his interrogation was interrupted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s that mean?” Harry asked, panicked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How could he forget? It was World War Two right now! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come,” Riddle grabbed his arm and dragged him up, “we need to get to the bunker.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was pulled out of the room and the pair joined the crowd of sniffling children. They were made to line up in the entrance hall for a head count before the matrons led them to a nearby underground that was turned into a temporary bunker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was crowded inside. There were some lamps here and there but the tall frames of others casted shadows on the walls. Some children were crying, clinging onto a blanket they’d grabbed from their room. Sandwiches were handed out by the matrons to substitute for dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Overall, the atmosphere wasn’t bright. Riddle pulled him away from the others and sat down against the wall. Harry followed suit but at a more hesitant pace. Everything felt surreal. He just wanted Ron and Hermione. He wanted to go back home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sniffle left his mouth. God, how fucked up was this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Harry asked a bit defensively. He was crying in front of Riddle, again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re crying.” There was nothing accusatory in his voice, just confusion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry let out a wet laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? Because everything’s gone to shit. I’m stuck in the past and I need to get back to my time. Cedric’s dead and I’m stuck with you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle stared at him in interest. “Do you know me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry groaned in frustration. “This is why. You forced information out of me! You didn’t even ask! Just demanded. Don’t you know anything about time travel? You could’ve caused me to cease to exist! Then you would’ve never met me in the first place, and everything would just explode or something ‘cause the universe can’t handle the paradox!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was panting by the end of his rant. A few people looked at him oddly but he ignored them. Riddle looked deep in concentration and Harry hoped he’d managed to get something across. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned back against the wall and stared off into the distance. His tears fell silently down his cheeks but were slowly receding the more he calmed down. Just then, a distant boom reverberated throughout the cavern. Everyone flinched hard and childrens’ crying increased tenfold. The walls and floor shook as the shockwave of the bomb reached them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was beyond terrified. Never in his life had he ever experienced this before. The pure, unadulterated fear for his life. The stretched out agony of waiting in tense silence for another bomb to fall. Wondering if this was how he’d die. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another boom echoed around them, this one closer than before. Harry jumped at the unexpected sound. His hand clung to the nearest thing possible and after a moment, realised it was Riddle’s shirt. He flushed in embarrassment and quickly dropped his hand. Riddle made no comment on either actions and didn’t speak when he shifted himself closer to the younger boy. Likewise, Harry refused to say he felt a little more safer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time ticked by slowly as bombs fell in irregular timings. Harry was still tense and refused to sleep but with Riddle’s warm body pressed up against his back, Harry found himself slowly closing his eyes.  He hadn’t heard an explosion in a while now and the steady breathing of Riddle was like a lullaby. Eventually, Harry drifted off to sleep.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just had to add that last bit! Awwww. </p><p>I'd wanted to write a few more chapters of Tom and Harry's interactions before Tom found out but I was like, stuff it, I want it now. I wasn't sure if it was too rushed or not but Tom's a very nosy person so I think its logical that Tom found the journal and read it. </p><p>I also want to thank everybody that has viewed, commented, bookmarked, kudos'd and subscribed to this work. I honestly didn't think so many would read it so quickly and all the comments, *sigh*, you really had me tearing up in joy! THANK YOU again! </p><p>Please feel free to comment what you think of this, any feedback is appreciated and any errors I make will be rectified!</p><p>Xx</p><p> </p><p>Word count: 1667</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Thank you for understanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Whiteness filled his vision from every direction. No matter which way he looked, the blank glow of nothing was all he could see. Harry was confused, something he was feeling quite often now. Time seemed irrelevant and Harry wasn’t sure if it’d been a few minutes or hours when he suddenly saw a shadow in the distance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry walked towards the figure, curiosity blooming in him. It wasn’t until he saw his face did he gasp. It was like looking into a mirror, except he was older. The stranger had the same messy hair and emerald green eyes. He looked around his late twenties but the thing that stood out the most was the dull, sunken eyes staring at him. The man wore a soft, sad smile which confused Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?” he whispered. He feared he might break something if he spoke louder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m you.” the… other Harry?... said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on? How are you here? Are you even real?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will explain that but you must listen. This is not a dream. I am real and everything you’re about to be told is real as well.” he waited for Harry to nod before continuing, “We are essentially the same person. However, when I was your age, I wasn’t sent to the past.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held up a finger to stop Harry from interrupting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Voldemort came back and we duelled. I managed to escape with Cedric and the cup but for the next year, no one believed in Voldemort’s return besides Dumbledore and the order; an organisation founded by Dumbledore to stop Voldemort in the first war. Fudge, especially, was adamant that he hadn’t returned. However, at the end of the year, I was lured into a trap with Sirius as bait in the Ministry. Voldemort wanted a prophecy about us in the Department of Mysteries that he hadn’t heard the full version of. Long story short, there was a battle between Death Eaters and the Order and Sirius was killed. The prophecy was destroyed but Dumbledore still told me what it had said: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Born to those who have thrice defied him,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Born as the seventh month dies,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, I was not too fond of that. Anyways, in 6th year, Dumbledore showed me pensieve memories of Voldemort’s childhood. Dumbledore then told me that Tom Riddle had delved into one of the darkest soul magics out there and created a horcrux. It is the process of splitting one’s soul in halve and placing it in an object. I learnt a lot about Tom. He had an unfortunate upbringing as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Dumbledore died, I went into hiding. I had to carry on the search for horcruxes with Ron and Hermione. There were a lot of fights, Ron even left for a couple months but he eventually came back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a whole year, I was hunted. Voldemort had taken over and wreaked chaos across magical Britain. There was a horcrux at Hogwarts so we went back there, only for Voldemort to find out and a battle happened. I lost lots of friends that day. I also learned that on the night Voldemort killed our parents and tried to kill us, a piece of his soul ripped away and latched onto the nearest vessel: us. So for Voldemort to be defeated, I had to die.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A long sigh left the older man’s lips. His eyes looked defeated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I let Voldemort hit me with the killing curse and I died. I ended up in a place similar to this,” he gestured around, “but it was of King’s Cross. Albus Dumbledore was there and told me I could go back, so I did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait! My brain can’t process all of this information at once! You- I- died?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did, but I came back to life, Harry. We’re stuck with a curse. A curse I can’t get rid of. It is the curse of being the Master of Death. You see, I’d accidentally collected three objects called the Deathly Hallows. These objects allowed the owner to defeat death; the Elder wand, the resurrection stone, and the invisibility cloak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t want it. I tried to get rid of it but Death - yes, he’s a real being - stopped me. Once I became the Master of Death, I stopped aging. I watched my remaining friends grow old. I watched my children grow older than me and I couldn’t take it. After my last friend died, I took my own life. That was when I met Death. He forced me back to life. And I hate him for it. I just wanted to be with my family and friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I continued to live - not like I had a choice - and another war started. This time it was with a group of pureblood-hating muggleborns and halfbloods. You see, after Voldemort died, the Dark Arts were completely banished and destroyed. The unspeakables had placed some sort of taboo on all the dark art spells they knew. Anyone caught saying it was thrown straight to jail. The eradication of them happened so slowly that we never realised what was happening until it was too late. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As I continued to live, I watched as generations after generations forgot about the Dark Arts. With all the books destroyed, I became one of the only people left who knew about them. Dark families tried to remember them but since they couldn’t cast or use the spells or rituals, the books were eventually left on their shelves to be forgotten. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The terrorist group rose up, demanding the persecution of purebloods from long lines. They declared them dangers to society, saying how every war or unethical act throughout history was due to a pureblood, and how they created the Dark Arts. Since muggleborn discrimination widely ended a few years ago, purebloods decreased and those that remained were so inbred and prejudiced against “lesser blood”, that their standing in the ministry dropped. Many agreed with the new group and they were persecuted. However, as time went on, other families who had a pureblood name but might not have been pureblood started to go missing. The Malfoys, Greengrass, Davis, Bones and so on. I was living in France when it all happened - wanted to take a break from Britain - but came back once one of my great grandchildren wrote to me urgently, asking for help. Only my family knew of my prolonged existence and respected my wishes to stay away from Britain, but whenever they needed help, I came. So when I set foot back into England, I was shocked. Many family names were disappearing. Purebloods would go on a holiday and never return. Others would fall ill and die or they’d be involved in some fatal accident. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ministry didn’t treat it seriously. Since there was no outright murder, and all deaths were ‘accidents’ that could happen, the ministry concluded that there was nothing they could do unless there was evidence or eye witnesses. I swear, half the ministry is probably made up of spies. Heck, the Macmillan children were killed by a rogue werewolf and the ministry called it a tragic mishap!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My family, however, weren’t fooled and called me for advice. I set up a secret hideout for them since they were the most vulnerable. Other pureblood friends of theirs joined them and soon it became a huge bunker for many families. I helped all of them, bringing in supplies and delivering news for them. No one knew who I was so I could technically walk freely. Everything was going swimmingly but someone must’ve been polyjuiced because one moment, we were talking in the common room and then an explosion. It was chaos. There were screams, and cries. The walls were aflame and bright colours lit up the area. Mothers crawled to their children, tears visible through the dust and men were lifting beams of wood off those trapped underneath. Figures swarmed through the entrance, all wearing purple masks with white and gold swirls across their faces. They didn’t speak. Didn’t say a single word. Just raised they wands and-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A choke flew out of the man. Harry stared at his older counterpart. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was what he’d experience? He didn’t want to witness any of that! God, why is it always him? The man seemed to be coming out of whatever trance he was in. He took a deep breath with a determined look in his eyes to finish his story.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fiendfyre engulfed everyone. I watched children, mothers and fathers collapse in agony as they burnt. It must’ve been only seconds till they died but those were the longest seconds of my life. I couldn’t die though and the attackers, who wore fiendfyre-proof clothing, noticed this as well. They captured me and experimented on me. They wanted my immortality and tried everything they could to get it. They asked me questions and tortured me. I might not be able to die but I still feel all the pain. They used this to their advantage. Though they couldn’t use the dark arts, they got creative with other spells. They summoned my finger nails or teeth, levitated my arms in the opposite direction, even tried to drown me with an aguamenti. A new recruit of theirs was meant to practice on me when he missed the summoning charm and hit my handcuffs. It pulled me straight into him, knocking the wand out of his hand. I quickly stunned him and unlocked my chains. I felt giddy at the prospect of escape and revenge. They’d killed those whom I swore to protect and I wasn’t gonna let them get away with it on top of my torture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I won’t go into too much detail because, frankly I’m a bit ashamed of what I did. When they first attacked, it was by surprise. Now I was ready and they didn’t stand a chance. I don’t think anyone survived that night. Even if they did, in my anger I set their base on fire, as a sort of payback for what they did to mine. Now that I was free, I allowed myself time to grieve. I apparated back to France and was thoroughly exhausted. I drank one dreamless sleep potion before going to sleep. That night, Death came to me. I knew it was real because of the potion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Death told me he’d been summoned and I guess I must’ve subconsciously called for him. He then confided with me that there was a way to die and never reborn again. I was so happy. Death said that he’s never seen a soul so broken that he was willing to allow me peace. However, since I already claimed the title of Master of Death, no one else could ever claim it again, even in other realities. In order for me to rest, I’d have to give my title to someone of an equal value to me. In other words, another me. I got Death to find me a reality that is as similar to mine as can be and made him transport you to a time you would thrive in, a place you would live your happiest. In doing so, I hope to spare you of the world I lived in. I know you didn’t ask to have this title but-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say that. I am happy to not have to go through the horror of witnessing something like that, no offence. Plus, I can understand why you want peace. I probably would’ve done the same in your position. So, thank you.” Harry finished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at the man standing before him and could help but admire the way he still holds himself. Despite all that he’s been through, he still stands tall. Suddenly Harry’s being engulfed in the man’s arms. He lets out a silent gasp before tentatively hugging back. It felt nice. The man began to shake and Harry felt a wet patch grow on his shoulder. He softly  comforted him to the best of his abilities, drawing small circles on his back and Harry still felt as comfortable as ever. Normally he’d be awkward in these situations but Harry’s never felt this good before, so calm. Eventually, the man calmed down and retreated. His eyes were still glistening but he wore a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. Even though we technically don’t know each other, thank you.” He stepped back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you ever need any help, which I’m sure you will, just call for Death, he’ll answer you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, the man slowly began to fade, his smile never leaving his face. Harry then felt his eyes start to droop and knew he was waking up. He closed his eyes and let himself drift away.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry for posting so late! I've got a lot of school work to do and haven't had much time to write a chapter. Anyways, I really hate this chapter. I feel like it's too rushed or very all over the place. If there's anything wrong with it, please comment :/</p><p>Thank you guys for reading, please give it a kudos if you enjoyed it and comment, I love reading your feedback.</p><p>The next chapter will have Tom in it, don't worry but it might be a while. Exams are just around the block and I actually need to study :D</p><p>Thanks again and I hope you have a good day!</p><p>Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A deal with the Devil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em><strong>[please read the author's note at the</strong> <strong>end]</strong></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Potter, Potter get up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry groggily opened his eyes. He felt the cold stone wall underneath him and shivered in his thin grey shorts. A poke in his side drew his attention to the left. Riddle was leaning against the wall, staring at him. Harry then realised that he was leaning on him and grew red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle only nodded and made a shooing motion with his hand. Harry, taking the hint, quickly moved off him and jumped to his feet. Riddle followed his lead and stood up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The warden gave us the okay to head back.” Riddle said as he grabbed Harry’s arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He began to stride towards the exit, dragging the befuddled boy behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ummm, Riddle? Can you let go?” Harry asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And let you get lost? You‘re basically a foreigner and if you go missing, the matron’s gonna blame me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed but didn’t push it. What Riddle said was true. He also had a dream to think about and he was kinda glad that he didn’t have to worry about where he was walking. It seemed so bizzare. He had no idea what a ‘Master of Death’ thingy meant. Something to do with a stone and his cloak? Or was it a wand? He couldn’t really remember. There was a man there; an older version of himself, he said. He’d told him a recap of his… future life? From what he heard, it sounded like shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him believed the whole thing was just a figment of his imagination and he was half tempted to ignore it. But he couldn’t shake off the chills of how </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>it felt. Whatever, he thought. He won’t worry over it. His brain could barely understand what it meant but he won’t forget it. The dream seemed too important to forget. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle continued to drag him to the exit. Loads of people bumped and shoved into him as everyone made for the door. He cursed his short body again. If it weren’t for RIddle, he’s sure he would’ve been swept away in the crowd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They finally managed to get out the door and Harry couldn’t stifle the gasp at the sight in front of him. Debris littered the streets, torn buildings and cracked roads everywhere. Harry could hardly believe this all happened last night. And to think how close they were to them. The tightening of Riddle’s hand and the clench of his teeth told him Riddle thought the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, we’ve still got a lot to discuss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, Harry whipped his head back to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I refuse to tell you anything anymore, you selfish bastard.” Harry hissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My parents were married.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care! I will not tell you anything, no matter what you do or say.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle just hummed and continued to walk down the streets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! You can’t just force me to tell you anything!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.” was Riddle’s reply before going silent once more. Harry growled in anger but wisely kept quiet when some adults turned and looked at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walk back past quickly with Harry staring in horror at every destroyed house they passed. He’d had to close his eyes at one point when he saw a half-buried teddy bear. When he saw the gates to Wool’s he almost sighed in relief. Mrs. Cole quickly did a head count before everyone was dismissed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walked back to their room. It felt like a death march, if Harry was completely honest. Riddle held the door open for him and shut it once both boys were inside. Harry stood tense in the center of the room as Riddle sat down on his bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to tell you anything more than you already know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle sighed, “I know, you’ve said many times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I just need to make sure it sticks in your brain.” Harry replied hotly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle stared at him coldly. Harry tensed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything you can tell me? I could help you, you know?” Riddle eventually said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you not just hear what I- !”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant. You can’t tell me anything about my future or anything that could make me change my actions in the future. However, you could probably tell me about how you got here, or any theories you have about it unless I will be affected by it. I mean, I’ve already read your little book and nothing’s happened so far.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stared at the older boy in front of him. What Riddle said sounded reasonable, and he’s a child. He wouldn’t do anything bad with it, wait… the chamber, okay, so maybe he’s not so innocent but the chamber incident hasn’t happened yet. Maybe, he could prevent it? No. Stop it Harry. The whole point was to not change anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you what I want to tell you. This doesn’t make us friends, okay? I haven’t forgotten what you did yesterday. You help me where you can and leave me alone. Deal?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddle smiled and extended his hand, “Deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shook it and he couldn’t help the sinking feeling that he’d just made the biggest mistake ever.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone... so I'm not dead.</p><p>Sorry this chapter is so short. I've been very busy with school and this whole pandemic and I thought it'd be best to get something out. </p><p>I also hit a bit of a writer's block. When I started this story, I didn't expect so many people to like it, which I am so thankful for, you keep making my day, but I also haven't planned where this story is going. This is why it took so long to come out. I still don't know where it's going but I have a vague idea what comes next. </p><p>If you guys have any ideas to what you might want in the story, please comment it. I would really appreciate your ideas, and even if it won't be used, I'd really love to read them &lt;3</p><p>Thank you for your support!</p><p>Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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